


Size Me Up

by Chubstilinski



Series: Chubby Teen Wolf Tumblr Prompt Fics [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Chubby Kink, Chubby Stiles, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, UST, Weight Gain, tight clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chubstilinski/pseuds/Chubstilinski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s tight, really tight. The shirt fits across his shoulders but the fabric pulls around his midsection, stretching the buttons slightly. He hadn’t realized Stiles had gained so much weight. Its not like Derek didn’t notice he’d gained some, he’s not blind, and it’s not as if he cares. He really likes it, in fact. It suits him. But the way the shirt forms to his body highlights changes baggy layers won’t show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Size Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Chubby!Stiles trying on clothes in the store, modeling them for Derek - Resiliencefa

Derek is sitting on a couch outside the men’s dressing room at Macy’s, with a bag full of clothes between his knees, leaning forward with his face resting heavily on his fist. The store’s about to close. He and Stiles are the only customers left on this end of it, and presumably Allison and Lydia are the only ones on the other. 

How he got roped into this he has no idea. Lydia’s plan is brilliant and conniving, as usual, but Derek wants no part of it. At least Stiles is on his side; he hated the idea, which, come to think of it, he’s not sure if that helps. In fact, it mostly just puts salt in the wound that is his terrible, stupid crush. 

But whatever. He’s loaded up on fancy, department store suits - plural, at Lydia’s insistence. Though if he had his way, it would just be the  _one_  suit for this one, horrible night that he hopes to forget about as soon as possible. Actually, if Derek had his way, he wouldn’t be doing this at all. 

It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Not because the plan isn’t decent, but because Derek is sure he’s not going to get anything but a broken heart and maybe a dead skinwalker out of the deal. 

At 10:00 this evening they’re going to show up, dressed to the nines at a very high profile (for the greater Beacon Hills area anyway) charity ball headed by the very rich philanthropist Hans Fischer. Or, more accurately, the walker who stole his face and dumped the body of the “mysterious Fischer doppelgänger” in the preserve three days ago, throat cut and fingerprints seared off.

Their night should be filled with charming and schmoozing, with their respective fake significant others on their arms in hopes one of them catches the attention of Fischer’s husband, Marcus, giving them an in. Lydia says he likes to invite other same-sex couples to dinners and after-parties, specifically. And just in case the skinwalker moves on to another mark sometime in the evening (with a room full of other rich people, its a high possibility), Scott and Isaac will be waiting as backup outside the building. 

All the humans and near-humans are going to the ball, plus Derek. Danny wanted noting to do with it, understandably, and Scott, as alpha, is going to have to be the muscle in case something goes wrong. That left the choice between him and Isaac to be Stiles’s date, but everyone was certain Derek and Stiles would make a far more convincing couple than Stiles and Isaac. He’s inclined to agree, and not just because of the obvious reasons. Their relationship had only briefly been friendly, but now, with Scott in the middle of their little bromance triangle, Stiles and Isaac’s interactions are nearly always tinged with animosity. 

And as much as he doesn’t want to be Stiles’s  _fake_  boyfriend, he wants anyone else to be even less. 

Stiles has been flailing and cursing and making strained noises inside the dressing room for almost ten minutes, and Derek is starting to get impatient. The sooner they get done here, the sooner they can all go home. 

"What are you even doing in there? Just pick something and lets get this over with."

"Uh, yeah I don’t think so. I’m gonna have to try on some other stuff."

"What?  _Why_? It can’t be that bad.”

"Oh that’s where you’re wrong, Derek. It most definitely can be that bad and there’s no way I’m wearing  _any_  of this outside,  _ever_."

"Just let me see." 

"Ha! No, I’m good, thanks."

"Come on, Stiles, don’t make me break in there." Derek lets an annoyed growl slip into his voice.

"Fine, okay, Jesus." 

Stiles comes out of the dressing room and the first thing he notices is the way the blue color of his shirt compliments his skin. The second thing is. Wow. It’s tight,  _really_  tight. The shirt fits across his shoulders but the fabric pulls around his midsection, stretching the buttons slightly. 

He hadn’t realized Stiles had gained so much weight. Its not like Derek didn’t notice he’d gained  _some_ , he’s not blind, and it’s not as if he cares. He really likes it, in fact. It suits him. But the way the shirt forms to his body highlights changes baggy layers won’t show. His stomach, most prominently, curves out from his ribcage, round and plump, framed by two chubby love handles. His thick thighs are encased by too-tight slacks that cut into his hips. 

The sight leaves Derek breathless, speechless with want. He’s beautiful. Derek can feel heat rise to his face and neck and his stomach swoops. He’s so fucked. 

"Told you." Finally Derek looks up at Stiles’s face and sees how absolutely mortified he is. 

He realizes he’s been staring too long, says, “It’s fine, Stiles. You just need a bigger size.” 

"Yeah, no shit. You know, I just sized up like two months ago, what the hell is that. Guess I need to lay off the snacks, huh?" He pats his belly and grimaces. 

"No."

Stiles raises an eyebrow, flails his hands. “Sorry,  _no_? I don’t know if you’ve seen the situation here, but-“

"I have. And  _no_ , you don’t need to do anything.”

"But I-"

"You’re  _fine_.”

Stiles sighs. “Whatever you say, dude. You’re my boyfriend for the evening. If you’re okay with it than I guess we’re good.”

"I’m okay with it."

"Okay. Cool…"

"That color looks good on you."

Stiles’s big brown eyes widen in surprise, and a small, suppressed smile appears briefly on his lips. “Oh, uh. Thanks man.” He rubs the back of his neck and ducks his head. “I’m just gonna-” he walks around Derek, back into the store, looks back, just once, and disappears into the miles of clothing racks. 

Derek lets out a breath, collapses onto the couch again and buries his face in his hands. He wonders if its too late to back out. Maybe Isaac had better do it, after all, because this is  _bad_. He’s gonna do something he regrets, probably, if he goes through with this. Derek is self aware enough to know that. 

But the thought that he can have Stiles, just for tonight, he can touch him, just a little. It’s enough to keep him from calling Scott and telling him to just make due with Allison and Lydia. 

He can’t stop thinking about Stiles’s body, it’s so. God, Derek never imagined it looking like that, and he’s overcome by the desire to do things to Stiles,  _with_  Stiles. 

Derek is startled out of his thoughts with a light kick to the shin. It doesn’t hurt, but he says “Ow,” anyway. 

"You okay, Derek?" 

"Yeah. Fine."

"Okay, well I’m gonna go try these on." 

Derek tries so hard not to watch him walk away but Stiles’s regular jeans just do not do his ass justice. In these slacks, it’s perfect and plump and Derek  _really_  needs to stop looking at it, but he  _can’t_. Stiles’s extra flesh jiggles as he walks and it’s intoxicating.

When Stiles reaches the door to his stall, he must feel Derek’s eyes on him. He catches him looking and by the time Derek drags his eyes up to meet Stiles’s, he’s wearing a weird sort of curious expression as he disappears into the dressing room. 

Derek doesn’t know what to make of it, but he’s gonna have to try much harder not to do things like that if he expects to get through the evening with as little humiliation as possible. 

A couple of minutes pass to the soundtrack of quiet elevator music and the same clumsy shuffling and annoyed noises as before. When Stiles comes out, he looks calculating. He’s in a different shirt and slacks, but  _not_  the ones he just brought in. They have to be some of the ones he’d rejected earlier; the way the buttons strain under the pressure of Stiles’s belly, more even than the blue one, only confirms that. 

Derek’s eyes sweep down the plush curves of Stiles’s body where he’s leaning against the wall, towards Derek, arms folded. Subconsciously, Derek licks his lips, and when he reaches Stiles’s face again, Stiles is smirking. 

"What do you think?"

"I. What?"

"How do you like it, Derek?" He runs long fingers down the expanse of his stomach, teasing at the pull of the buttons 

"Uh. It’s, good." Derek has to look away, take a deep breath. 

"Just good?"

Derek doesn’t say anything, doesn’t look, tries to keep his face expressionless, but when he tries to  _mhmm_  in response, he ends up making a wounded noise in his throat. 

"Hmm. Okay then, good to know." 

He retreats back into the stall and Derek wipes his face with both hands, whispers, almost inaudibly, “This can’t be happening.”

A few minutes later and Stiles exits the stall, thankfully in his own baggy clothes, with an armful of new ones. He smiles brightly at Derek and jerks his head towards the check out counter. 

Derek picks Stiles up at his house at 9:45 and Stiles swaggers down the pathway in fitted grey slacks, a matching suit jacket, unbuttoned, and the blue shirt from earlier. It’s a size up, but it’s still very noticeably tight. When he sits in the passenger seat, the buttons pull slightly and Stiles reaches over to cup his face and plant a wet smacking kiss on his cheek. “Hey, boyfriend,” Stiles grins. 

Derek sighs. He’s in for a long night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Pssst come find me on [tumblr](http://chubstilinski.tumblr.com).


End file.
